Oh, darn, kick the table leg

I was rummaging through my purse yesterday and found a card for a doctor’s appointment on October 8th. Ack! Ack! Rats! and Drat! That’s this coming Wednesday. Oh, like I really want to go. I didn’t kick the table leg, but I felt like it. A nice little mini-tantrum.

And, if that wasn’t enough drama yesterday, I slipped leaning over the open trunk and smacked my healing ribs into the car’s upper bumper. It wasn’t too bad, but it was a reminder. Maybe I should have just passed that major Stouffer sale up . . . Well, at least it doesn’t take much lifting to put a Salmon and Basil Stouffer entrée into the microwave.

I just looked at the fine print at the bottom of my draft post and now realize my posts are being dated one hour earlier – because, apparently, the Internet thinks I am in an Indiana county that keeps Chicago time. In the past, this would have triggered at Daylight Savings Time in the far western Eastern Time Zone. Today, you get a sigh.

Oddly interestedly is that one of those old posts – Fast Time/Slow Time – attracts weird commentors and periodically I have to trash them. The English used is not natural and the comment usually invites me to view some website, which I do not do.

Rose says I’m boring her, so, okay, see ya later.